constellations
by windsilk
Summary: Wanderer!verse. Maybe one day I'll fly next to you. —Sasuke/Sakura.
1. flock of birds

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**constellations  
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(flock of birds)

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He dresses like he's about to pack up and leave any moment. His clothes are made for travel, his home is spartan, and sometimes the way he looks at the gates is the way that she wishes he would look at her.

The years have taken and taken from him, and all that he's been left with is the faint smell of smoke and the propensity to spiral to the sky, float away.

It is something she cannot deny any longer: he does not belong here.

Things were good for them, in spite of it all. They were finally all back together, and the word family had never meant so much to her. Time had given her a dream that she'd thought impossible for so long.

It is some kind of bliss.

They train in the summery afternoons, lay in the long grass and watch the clouds and birds pass by as the days grow longer, and see stars at the bottoms of fizzy bottles by night.

He looks at her in wonderment. He looks at her, and she feels like this was where they're meant to be.

But even though he smirks at Naruto's antics and rolls his eyes at Kakashi's excuses and mountains of paperwork, even though he holds her hand in the moments when the air is quiet and sun glows golden, she knows.

It is only a matter of time. It is only a matter of time until he leaves.

And she does not know if she will stop him.

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: this is a series of ficlets with large gaps of time in between which I call wanderer!verse. another reposting from tumblr; there are more of these uploaded over there, but I'll release them slower here. I'm actually really happy with this verse, so I hope you will be too!

thank you for all the support! AND YES, I AM STILL INTERNALLY SCREAMING ABOUT BEING CANON. I CRIED BUCKETS. as a result, salad chan fics to follow soon. (I call her salad chan tongue in cheek, but she'll be sarada in all real writing.)

(and yes, I did change my username again. I'm fickle. just as a reminder I used to be seleneswan, then I was hermiones, and now I'm windsilk. this one is probably going to stick around for a long, long time.)


	2. switzerland

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**constellations  
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(switzerland)

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(07:18:32:54:05)

He feels like fog settled over a field in the early light of the day. Heavy and light, opaque and transparent.

She could stay here, curled up in quilts and pressed into his side, for years. The breeze is chilly, but his hand against her spine is warm, and his breath is steady, steady.

He is safe. He is a harbor; he is home.

She wakes to gray light and his lips pressed against her still damp hair. There is a vague cooing of a mourning dove wafting around the slope of her shoulders and into the hollows of their ears, but all she hears is his heartbeat.

All she hears is the crooning of a second chance.

Another day he stayed, another day in her grasp. Another day to make it count.

Their legs are woven together, and when she blinks blearily, he is watching her carefully with a look so soft that it feels like the faint edges of a dream sewn by wind, by silk.

She cranes her neck to press her lips to his in greeting, and when he says good morning, she can't help but agree.

Another twenty four hours in her grasp.

—

(05:20:04:36:49)

Restlessness comes easier to her every night that he stays. She wakes at his every movement, eyes cracking open to reaffirm that he's still there, that he's still with her, before settling back down.

He gives no indication that he knows of her worries, and she does not tell him of her suspicions. She does not tell him of the lurking feeling that has settled in her legs and weighs her down every time she walks toward him.

It is the unspoken truth that she is sure they both know, and when they make love, it is in the space between their breaths.

He doesn't meet her eyes as much as he used to, she thinks.

But she's lost the courage to speak up. Saying it out loud, finding the voice to face her fears, feels like making it real.

In the middle of the night, at least, she can pretend it's an elusive nightmare. She can pretend that his slow withdrawal from her is just her imagination.

—

(03:22:30:17:58)

His touch is a slow burn. His skin is smooth, his angles sharp. Her thighs, muscled after years of endurance, are gentle, pliant just for him.

He kisses her soundly, his fingers curled around the back of her neck, thumb caressing her jaw. He kisses her, and she thinks he makes her feel more alive than any CPR ever could.

She presses her hand to his chest, to his heart, and she believes just for that moment that it belongs to her. There is no desire for him to find something that can't exist within Konoha's walls; there is no longing for something greater than her.

She believes that she's enough.

He kisses her, fingers curled around her ribs, hunched over to wrap his arms around her waist. His nose skims her flat tummy, and she thinks oxygen has never been so sweet.

The sunset glows pink and orange through the window, and she turns her head to the side to see the incandescent sight, brilliant through the open blinds, before her eyes squeeze shut and her legs are wrapped around his broad shoulders. Her hand strokes through his hair, and he nuzzles her.

He kisses her, and she believes.

—

(01:01:13:48:35)

"I love you," he says one night into the shell of her ear.

She has expressed the sentiment to him a million different ways. It is in her insistence upon him keeping a first aid kit in his mission pack, in her cradling of the hard, angry parts of his being in her soft hands.

It is in her smile, the laugh she reserves just for him, the softness of her lips when she says his name like a promise. It is in the many, many times she has made her feelings heard-yelled them into the skies, screamed them into the rain.

(_We'll always be happy! I'll make everyday fun! Just..._)

This is the first time he's ever put his own into words.

She laces their fingers together and tries to ignore the stinging in her eyes, tries to pretend that the roughness in his voice doesn't sound like a goodbye. She clamps down the swelling of emotion in her trembling lips, and she exhales a shuddered breath.

"I love you more," she returns finally, meeting his gaze.

She looks at the stars again, measuring the constellations against their time, and wonders if they'll last the night.

(_...stay with me._)

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: just so you guys know, I actually started this series _before_ 699 came out. I wrote the first one immediately after the poncho sasuke sketches were revealed, so this isn't exactly going to follow the canon. I just happened to be a seer about his wanderings hahaha.

a lot of these installations are inspired by music. the last chapter was inspired by coldplay's o, and this one was written to daughter's switzerland. they're both so wonderful. you should check them out!

thank you for all the wonderful and supportive feedback!


	3. the woodlands

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**constellations  
><strong>

(the woodlands)

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Sasuke is not easy to love. He knows this to be true, and doesn't need the years of Naruto and Sakura and Kakashi's anguish following after him as proof of this. His heart is made of crusty scales, his hands rough to the touch.

He thinks he is to blame for making himself this way.

Certainly, he wasn't always like this. He can still remember his mother's fond hands tickling at his sides, the peals of laughter, the natural placement of a toothy grin on his face.

These days, expressing affection is opening a mouth wide, a mouth with chapped lips and dry skin that has been wandering the desert for so long. The skin cracks and tears, and a dry tongue is unable to lap moisture at the wounds.

He is learning, though. He can acknowledge that much. He is learning how to drop his guard, learning how to take off his armor and relish the freedom. He is learning—fighting against everything he's feared—that love is like water, and without it, there is only death.

He brings the bottle to his lips and guzzles after a long day of training, and Naruto, with a mischievous look in his deep blue eyes, yanks it from his grip and dumps it on his head. The ice water is quick to make its way down his back, and his neck and shoulders raise gooseflesh.

He scowls.

Sakura's previously exhausted countenance unfolds to sheer amusement, and then she is rolling on the ground giggling. There are dirt and grass stains on the back of her clothes, and there are leaves in her hair, and she has never been more beautiful.

Naruto chuckles, too, arms folded across his chest expectantly. His light injuries do not take away from his competitive spirit one bit.

In another life, Sasuke would have barked out some threat and walked away, but he is learning slowly. So he takes the empty bottle and whacks Naruto upside the head.

Kakashi rolls his eyes and mutters something that sounds like _children_, and Naruto tells him to _shut up, old man. _Sakura straightens, leaning back against the tree she was resting underneath before, and she crisply corrects him, telling him to address his Hokage with respect.

Naruto's eyes widen at the steel in her tone, and he flinches away automatically, flinches like a Pavlovian response sewn into his skin.

Sasuke wonders if this is what home is meant to feel like.

He wonders why he still dreams of distant mountains, of tall spindly trees and the call of the wind. He wonders why the sky feels too tight around his arm span, and he wonders if he has forgotten what it is like to simply exist, to float along.

He does not know if it's something he can learn. And yet…sometimes he knows he feels at ease here.

He wonders, if this feels right, why he still feels the need to escape.

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: I don't...know if I have anything to say here. I'm feeling a little listless. still, thank you for the wonderful reviews!


	4. deep river

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**constellations  
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(deep river)

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(00:00:04:00:34)

There is something in the way her lab coat flutters around her form as she's walking back from the hospital, something in the way the wind moves. She has felt this feeling only once before, and she does not need to return home to discover the folded letter waiting for her there, stained script on paper, after her night shift.

The trees rustle quietly, secrets shared amongst leaves, and when they fall around her, she tips her head up to the sky, searching it for the moon that is not there.

And Sakura knows.

She knows in the way she can trace the scar through his chest in her memory, knows in the way that she will never love anyone as much as she loves him.

Her time has run out.

Her hands are loosely curled in her pockets, and her shoulders are back. Her head is held high, and she does not mind when the cool midnight breeze ruffles her hair, blowing strands into her face. Her feet take her to the end and the beginning all at once, and she does not need to turn around to know that he is there, a few steps behind her.

"Again?" her voice is resigned, a soft sigh. Everything aches, and there is nothing she wants more than to drench herself in sunlight and fall asleep.

Her gaze is focused on the edging of the gates, the way this is so much the same and so different.

"Sakura," he begins, and it is at times like these that he makes her feel like her name is the most beautiful word in the world. He hesitates on his words. "I can't stay."

Her eyes sting, and even though she _knows_ and has known for months, it burns. She nods numbly, and she sighs shakily. "I know." Her brows pull together, and she blinks several times before turning around.

Meeting his eyes, so soft and for her, hurts, asphyxiates. She bites her lip, and she cannot look at the apology in them, so she looks away. "Just promise me one thing," she says thickly, and before she can stop herself, she steps forward, closing the distance.

Touching him is instinctive. Her hands come up to trace the landscape of his face, and she has to swallow to keep back the words that threaten to spill out, words that sound like _I love you. _

He is so beautiful.

"What?"

She ducks her head, resting it just under the strong line of his chin. "Come home to me."

He pulls away, tips her chin upwards, and then he is kissing her like the sun is dying, like he has found the threads sewing them together all these years. When he pulls away, tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes, and she's looking at him like he's already gone.

He presses his nose into her hair, and she shakes in his grip. She smells like antiseptic and soap and home. "Don't say goodbye, whatever you do," she whispers into his skin. "Don't say goodbye."

He shakes his head. "I won't."

Sakura doesn't stay to watch him disappear into the distance, doesn't stay to see him slip through her fingers again. She sits on the bench facing the trees and the training ground behind it, knees pulled up to her chest, and watches the way sun blooms pink over the horizon.

It does not feel warm. Not today.

(00:00:00:00:00)

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: *yawns*


	5. atonement

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**constellations  
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(atonement)

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_Sasuke-kun, _

_You only just left the village, and I'm already writing you a letter. I keep saying to myself that you've been gone for almost four years now—what's a few more? _

_I have never been patient like I am for you. _

_Springtime has finally come to Konoha, and I couldn't be more grateful. Ino's much less cranky now that her blooms are budding and the flower shop can stop losing revenue from the weather. Naruto's still slaving after Kakashi, and in a few months they'll finally unveil his face on the mountainside. _

_I am as I always am. _

_Today at the hospital, I was doing back to back surgeries, and as I was stroking the skin around a tumor, I was struck by the fact that as time goes on, I have begun to forget what you feel like—your hands on my hips, your breath on my cheek. Still, the strangest things have begun to remind me of you—the whistle of the kettle which brings back the one morning we had tea in bed, and the gentle lapping of water which resurfaces the oceans that have been placed between us. _

_I miss you. _

_I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope you haven't forgotten that you will always have a home here. Reply soon._

_Sakura_

_—_

_Sakura, _

_I'm currently at an inn in Sound. There's something about this place that's an echo of what it used to be, or maybe as time has passed my perspective has changed with it. The people here are aimless and stuck under the thumb of their de facto leader. _

_There's not enough money around for shelters, and all the remnants of the hideouts as long gone, only small hovels with vaguely familiar phantoms of the past in the midst. _

_They look at me in apprehension, and I'm once again reminded of the debts I carry. I have offered my help with rebuilding a few things in the area, and I'm meeting with the only greengrocer and a woman that everyone refers to as being the wisest tomorrow to discuss their plans. _

_I hope they will allow me to begin my amends. I'm retracing my steps, though, and I will do what I can before they will make me leave. _

_I think of you every night, and the quiet mornings and crooning cicadas and rumpled bed sheets from sleepless nights don't compare. _

_I know I said that my sins were my own, but I have also begun to process that some things are better with teams than they are alone. Pass on to Naruto that, if possible, that Sound could use some aid in picking themselves up and beginning anew. _

_Change can be hard. _

_Sasuke_

__—__

_Sasuke-kun, _

_You'll think I'm an annoying idiot when I tell you I cried over your letter, but I did. I'm happy that you have found something meaningful to put your time towards. _

_All these years chasing after you, trying to get you to stay were hard, but watching you leave again was harder still. I know you said you'd return, but I had worried that your wanderings around the world would make you less at peace and more restless. _

_I am so glad that is not the case. _

_Naruto sent some emissaries to survey the area before deciding what a good course of action would be, but there are talks about transferring some of our green genin teams to begin to make a difference there. The rest of the village is still occupied with healing ourselves, but our young must learn early that in each of us, no matter what walk of life we're from, there are similarities worth remembering. _

_We are all, after all, people. _

_The squeaky chair in my house finally gave out yesterday, and I bought a new plant to replace the one that died last time. I have high hopes for this little bud, and Ino promised she would watch over me watching over it. _

_Sai…has decided he wants to "court" Ino, and a couple days ago, Hinata asked Naruto out. Can you believe it? He was the one who passed out this time. Don't tell him I told you; he'll wage a small war against me. _

_Sometimes, I think about the future, and I can never figure out what I'm hoping for, but I always see you. _

_Sakura _

__—__

_Sakura, _

_I helped build a city. I don't know if it will ever be enough penance for using the people there for my own gain, but by the time I left, a woman with green eyes just like yours asked me to give a blessing for her son. She said I was proof that there is good in everyone, and it gives her hope that she can bring her child into a world where that's true. _

_I discovered darkness in Sound, and I hope that I brought it light. _

_I left this afternoon, and it's almost evening so I settled in a border town by Rain, my next destination. I don't know what I'll find there, but I know Itachi had spent a lot of his time there. _

_I'm eating ramen for dinner, and I think somewhere, the idiot is dancing in this victory._

_The sky is clear—the last clear sky I'll see in weeks since the monsoons are almost here. The air is warm and thick, and here, in the middle of nowhere, the sky is as full of stars as it was when I taught you the constellations. _

_Fuck, Sakura. I haven't been stationary, settled in almost half a decade, and somehow I still miss it. I don't where home is, but even though it feels like I just left Konoha, I think it was beside you. There are parts of me that have never felt more at peace, but there is something in the grooves of my fingers that feels like longing. _

_Sasuke _

__—__

_Sasuke-kun, _

_Everything aches. I don't know how many acres or moons separate us, and I know the sky above me is the same as the one above you, but it does not help. There is a homesickness that has taken me, and I haven't left the borders of the village in two months. _

_I'm yearning for something like love, but you've whisked it away to the wilderness, and I can't find it in myself to blame you for it. I want nothing more than your happiness, and I can wait, but it feels like I have loved you for a thousand years._

_I trained today for the majority of the day in order to prepare for the upcoming jounin exams, but it feels wrong to be taking these things without you. I can't stop my life. It moves with or without me. You have been my cardinal north for years, but my magnet has broken and now I'm spinning, directionless. _

_You are here, and you're not here. There are missions I could take, but I refrain. I am stagnant and ceaseless in motion all at once, and I can do nothing but occupy my time with learning to live for me._

_The grass stains on my clothes and the daylight on my skin feel like being truly alive. I decided to take up painting, and I'm learning from Sai. Tsunade tells me to find something I love and do it every day, but my passions lie around healing and fighting, and in peacetime, neither of those are abundant. I think, perhaps, I could bring color to my life. _

_I hope Rain is treating you well. Write me soon. _

_Sakura_

__—__

_Sakura, _

_There is a garden in Rain that only blooms when it is pouring, and it reminds me of you. There is something about the constant showers that brings life. I've never seen a land more in bloom. Children dance in the rain here—something I was expressly forbidden to do when I was younger for fear of catching a cold—and life goes on. _

_I have found nothing here to pinpoint as the wisps of Itachi's life left behind, forgotten, but there is still something that has given me peace here. There are burn marks on the buildings from a conflict long forgotten, but there is also chatter and laughter. _

_They are not the most established nation, and the people do not have much, but they are happy. _

_I'm going to Snow, and from what Naruto's told me, that's where the jounin exams are taking place this year. _

_I'll see you there. _

_Sasuke _

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: this is a semester of change, for me. I think that's a good thing.


	6. the worst

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**constellations  
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(the worst)

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There is no snow on her journey to Snow. The leaves crunch beneath her boots, brown and curled, and every inch of her travel reminds her of him. The night air is cool, and she thinks of his caress. Naruto's laughter is buoyant, and she remembers the fond crinkle of his dark eyes.

The air is silent, the noiselessness oppressing, and she knots her fingers together behind her back as they walk forward, the lilting branches closing in on her.

She does not know why, but all at once the bubble of emotion she'd kept wrapped up for weeks—the smell of his letters, the loneliness, ink stained black on her hands, the pale skin of her patients, her own sallow complexion—comes up like burning acid and suddenly her lips are trembling and her eyes are stinging and the tears, hot and fast, slip down her face and soundlessly connect with her shirt.

Her shoulders shake, and the path blurs, and then all at once she's sobbing, hoarse desperation scraping up the sides of her throat, and Naruto turns around just in time to see her shoulder collide with a tree trunk as she sinks to her knees, mud soft and cold against her skin.

Naruto's hands are on her shoulders, and she bows her head, and his voice comes through like there's a river between then, all rushing water and muddled noises. "Sakura-chan," he pleads, and then softens. "Sakura."

Bloodshot eyes meet his, woefully glossy and brimming with despair. "I can't do this," she whispers, leaning forward so the lines of her cheekbones are pressed into the crook of his neck.

His arms wrap around her, and then they are holding each other in the middle of a dark forest, her arms trembling, soft hiccups and loss coloring her movement. "Tell me."

She mouths the words against his neck. "Waiting is the hardest thing."

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: another song inspired this: the worst by jhene aiko (as evidenced from the chapter title.) take a listen! and also obvs read and tell me what you think!


	7. red herring

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**constellations  
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(red herring)

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The bluff is quiet. Her feet shift in the wilting grass, eyes set in the distance.

Her gloved hands are tucked into the pockets of her red coat, and she thinks that Snow is among the most beautiful places she's ever seen. Neither her own foggy breath nor the anxiety of an impending exam can hide that.

The city stretches out below her, and a land blanketed in white has spires of ice, evergreens in the snow, and crisp scarlet sloped roofs bringing color to what some would call desolation. It is clear to her, from this view, that even in the throes of winter, this land is alive.

The sky is clouded and swollen, and the wind is blistering against her face, red rising on the curves of her cheeks. She waits.

It does not take long for him to come, and she doesn't need to turn around to know that the sudden shift in the wind, the warmth that rises to her cheeks is all him. She licks her dry lips, and she doesn't say a thing. The months of distance come to a close as his fingers, icy from exposure, brush her nape, curl around her hair's new length—a meager centimeter more than when he last saw her. "You're letting it grow," he observes, and her eyes soften at his tone.

So soft, so soft.

"I want it long enough where I can put it in a ponytail without it looking ridiculous," she explains, a barely-there tremble in her voice.

They settle back into silence, and when he finally takes the last few steps so his chest bumps against her shoulder, her eyes slip shut, and she exhales. She allows the tension to melt off of her bones, and she unwinds back onto him.

Her eyes are wet as the snow begins to drift down, as his fingers weave together with hers.

So soft, so soft.

She waits.

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: winter is coming


	8. letters

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**constellations  
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(letters)

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Sasuke is not there when she ascends to a new height, gains the next step in becoming another sort of legendary. He does not witness the way her chin tilts in pride, does not know how she incited a standing ovation among the private audience in the arena tucked in the mountains.

He does not see her hugged by two teachers in succession, the only shinobi since the Third to have had two different Hokages as mentors.

He does not watch her ascend into legend, watch her turn shards of ice lethal, watch her crack the ground open in a genjutsu, watch her heal her opponent back into perfect health. She is benevolent and fierce, but he is not there to see it.

Instead, he leans against window of her room, his back against the frosty glass, and combs through his new discovery.

More letters.

He does not know why she keeps these in her medical pack, tucked between the cotton gauze and medical tape he'd needed for his frost-bitten palms, but they are all about love.

_—_

_Tou-san,_

_I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of my friends. I love you, and your puns will always make me smile, but I was embarrassed, and I should have never been. Ino-pig is going to call me a green bean for the next week because of this, but that's okay. _

_You're tied for my favorite person in the whole wide world, and I should never be anything but happy to be around you, even if you do make lame jokes. _

_It's part of what makes you you, though, and I never want to change that. _

_Your daughter, _

_Sakura _

_—_

_Sasuke-kun, _

_It's been a year since you left, and I've been training really hard with Tsunade-sama! She teaches me something new every day, and each moment with her feels like a step closer to you. _

_I started to work on real patients, finally, and being part of something that involves actually saving lives is the most fulfilling thing I've ever experienced. I delivered a baby yesterday, and seeing a mother so, so happy is…it was beautiful. _

_You are so far gone that sometimes I try to remember what you look like and I cannot place it unless I look at photos. _

_I miss you. _

_Sakura _

_—_

_Sakura, _

_I owe you an apology. I am here for you first and foremost. I'm just…afraid. I want you in my arms for as long as possible, but the hardest challenge of motherhood is letting go. _

_You are an adult, now, and I couldn't be more proud of the person you've turned into. _

_I know this is your life, and I know these are your loved ones, and I am not in a place where I could ever ask you to pull away from that. But you cannot blame me for being who I have always been: a mom. _

_War is a terrifying thing, and although I've gotten used to the fact that every time you go on a mission you may not return, a battlefield is quite another. Where I see you—the capable, brilliantly smart, strong woman you are—I still see my baby, red bow and all. _

_I will never not want to keep that safe. _

_I love you. _

_Kaa-san_

_—_

_Izumi, _

_If you get this letter from Sakura-sama, it means I'm gone. I know in our last days we avoided talking about the risks, about the never-ending battle with time, but I want you to know this: even from the other side, I don't regret anything. _

_I spent my last moments thinking only of you. I spent all my moments getting lost in you. _

_Nothing will compare to that._

_I know I never told you, but this is better late than never: I love you. _

_I want nothing more than for you to be happy. _

_Naoya_

_—_

_Sakura-san, _

_Your beauty is not nearly as remarked upon as much as your strength, but the first time I woke to see you hovering above me, brow furrowed in concern as you patted down my torn up face with stinging medicine, it was all I could think about. _

_It's all I can still think about. The gentleness of your smile, the kindness in your touch. _

_I know romance in the midst of war is not really something you probably wish to partake in, but there is only so much time in this world, and I wish to spend at least a little more of it with you. _

_Hideki _

_—_

_Sasuke-kun, _

_Why did you have to leave again? Why do you have to feel like you must do everything on your own? I have known for months now that you've been thinking about it, but watching you walk away again and letting it happen is one of the hardest—_

_—_

_Sasuke-kun, _

_I—_

_I don't understand. Well, that's—_

_No. I understand. I know you have done many things that burden you, but by now you should know you don't have to carry that on your own. _

_—_

_Sasuke-kun,_

_Please come home. Please come home to me. _

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: girls don't want boys girls want a bag of gardetto's and 1AM writing


	9. retrouvailles

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**constellations  
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(retrouvailles)

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He drops his guard as she peels off his clothes, fingers carefully unbuttoning and tugging at the back of his shirt, the quiet rustle of fabric the only noise in the room. Her hands skate along his spine, pulling upwards at the enduring fabric as he releases her just long enough for the clothes to slip over his head.

She unbuttons his pants with familiarity, and not even the months that have taken away from her muscle memory. She takes her time relearning him, pressing kisses along his broad shoulders, along the remains of the arm that doesn't exist. She treats him like he's fragile, like handling him too roughly will make the illusion dissipate.

They are pressed together, and she looks so unbearably sad, and he cannot take his eyes off of her.

"I'm not going anywhere," he feels compelled to say, and she breaks her gaze with the scar marring his chest to lock eyes with him.

There is skepticism in her face, and she shakes her head, her reply soft. "Aren't you?"

He doesn't get a chance to respond because then she is standing on her tippy toes, bare feet straining against carpet to reach him. Even when he is in front of her, she finds as her lips slide against his, he is too far away.

His hand skims down her neck as he slides the zipper of her top all the way down, her pants already long discarded. She is warm, and he nudges her onto the bed, teeth pulling at her bottom lip as he follows her down, crawling above her.

There is no exaggerated foreplay, and their time apart has ensured that neither of them want anything else but to feel some kind of completion, some level of wholeness. He tugs her panties off and sinks into her with a hard thrust.

She gasps, and he leans over, tugging the straps of her bra down to pull her breasts out of the cups, his hand covering one peak as his hips rock back and forth.

"Sakura," he says suddenly, and her eyes crack open, hazy with pleasure.

"Mhmm?" she croons in return, hands relearning the lines of his shoulder blades, the length of his corded back, the tension in his abs, the bones of his hips.

His voice is rough when he gets the words out, breath hot against her face. "Come with me."

Everything in her unravels at once, and her limbs lose their energy as she stares at him in blatant shock. He stops moving, still seated deep inside of her, and waits for her to wrap her mind around his request.

"Come…with you…?" she repeats shallowly, and he strokes over her side, pressing kisses to the curve of her breast, raking his teeth over her puckered nipple.

"Yes."

"On…on your travels?" she arches as she clarifies, daring to hope, her skin shiny with sweat. Her mind is in two places, on the sensations and the gravity of the moment.

He discovers a cut unattended to on the back of her forearm, and he kisses it. "Yes."

She pushes his hair back from his forehead, turning his face so his dark eyes meet hers. Her fingers are delicate on his jaw, and she looks at him in wonderment. She turns them over so she's above him, and when she slides her tongue in his mouth, she grinds hard against his hips, drawing a hoarse groan from him. A sweet smile curls at her lips, and when she pulls away, she looks like daybreak.

"Okay."

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: retrouvailles (n): _french_. the happiness of finding someone again after a long separation.


	10. landsailor

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**constellations  
><strong>

(landsailor)

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It is with a formal bow, eyes focused on Kakashi's shoes, that she says goodbye. He places a fond hand on her head, and accepts the headband she hands him in return. "I'll be back," she promises.

His gaze is proud when he follows it up with, "You'd better."

The blistering wind is dry and cold, raking along her cheeks until they're red. It does not let up until they are safely out of Snow, passing through the rocky, moss covered base of the mountain chain in an eastward direction towards Lightning. They travel in a comfortable silence interspersed with bits of conversation, but there is something about the air between them that feels natural.

They run through the night, finally stopping as the horizon grows pink in a little village on the base of the mountainside, a scant few hours from their destination. The young family running the bed and breakfast is welcoming, and Sakura heals their son of his pesky bruises as a token of her appreciation before sluggishly trudging towards their shared room.

"It's the least I could do," she shrugs. The boy's mother beams, and it reminds Sasuke of all the reasons he wanted to redeem himself.

There is an ambiance that follows Sakura wherever she goes, one that he is sure was not with him prior to her accompaniment on his travels. People open up to her. She is springtime, and they are buds she pries apart simply by being. On the off chance they recognize her trademark pink hair and gawk over the stories that follow her—much better than the nightmares that follow him—she gains friends, favors, and free knick knacks in the process.

It is a talent he knows he will never acquire, and he cannot help but be envious.

Even so, when she shops around in the small market for a sweater, her playful gaze as she puts on a silly vest is all for him. Her knuckles brushing his as they walk along the dimply lit roads later in the evening, the whispers in the middle of the night—these, he thinks, he cannot bring himself to regret.

Still, she packs like this is a reprieve, a getaway, gathering trinkets in her pockets and taking silly photos in photo booths with him. She insists that they do at least some sightseeing, because the world is too big to not have experienced all it has to offer.

Her face lights up when she talks about Konoha, when she says the word home. The months apart, the years he's been gone, have only served to bind her closer to it, and as much as she says that he is everything, he does not believe it.

For her, home is out there, miles away behind a forest of leaves, dappled in sunshine. For him, it is in her arms.

The weeks pass, and finally it becomes something he cannot deny any longer: she does not belong here.

Things are good for them, in spite of it all. There is no doubt that she is there for him when there is a chance to repent, the two of them praying side by side in a small shrine. She is proud when he catches petty thieves and returns stolen goods, and her smile is warm when he does simple deeds like picking up litter.

They train together in the foggy mornings, share quiet meals, and kiss like it's a habit.

He looks at her like she's a dream.

And perhaps she is, because he knows. He knows it is only a matter of time until she wants to leave, before she asks him to come back with him.

And he does not know how he will tell her no.

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: nothing tickles my fancy more than full circles, I think


	11. impressions

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**constellations  
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(impressions)

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She paints him when he sleeps.

Her few lessons with Sai had been put to good use, and when he's out partaking in a refurbishing project of the community center, she shops for a canvas and oil paints. The art store is small but well packed, and the narrow aisles are crammed with colors.

The elderly man at the counter is quick to help her select the right skin tones. He shows her to the best sketching pencils, but she rejects them gently. She knows Sasuke's form too well to need a rough draft, and she only has so much pocket money to spare.

The darkest gray for his eyes, a blushing pink for his kiss-swollen lips. She paints him when he sleeps, his figure steeped in daybreak. His hair is mussed, and his chest rises and falls slowly. His knuckles are bandaged carefully, and the white sheets are soft on his skin, and he is beautiful.

The chair is stiff against her back, but still she sets up the cheap easel, tracing the lines of his neck.

Her brush memorizes the curve of his lip, the smoothness of his ear, and she is hiccupping back tears by the time he rouses, blending in the angles in his face. He looks so at peace, and he is calm, and there is nothing in him that begs to return.

He is happy here.

"Sakura?" he asks, voice drowsy. She shakes her head, setting the brush down on her paper towel, rubbing at her tears with the backs of her palms.

"It's nothing. Go back to sleep."

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: pls be excited for me; today, I plan on relaxing in a bath and reading and finally, finally working up the courage to write


	12. nostalgia

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**constellations  
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(nostalgia)

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He watches an elderly man hobble across the street with a cone of ice cream for his grandchild as he sweeps the rubble of the rebuild into a pile, handling a broom with finesse. Part of this reminds him deeply of the missions he did as a genin, painting fences and rescuing cats.

But he's a different person, and he thinks that he'll write to Kakashi and suggest that Naruto implement a practice of having all their shinobi take one D-rank every six months.

There is something in helping others that reminds him of what his place in the world is.

He watches life move around him, and thinks of Sakura, whose red-rimmed eyes and paint stained hands greeted him in the morning. She showed him the canvas later on, and he didn't need his Sharingan to see the longing in every stroke.

She promised after a shower that she was going to help out at the local hospital, but something in the way her gaze lingered on the painting made him think she would probably do something different. It doesn't surprise him, then, to see her walking across the market towards the post office, a letter in hand.

He wonders who it's for, and then thinks it's better not to ask.

Her head is ducked, and her clothes are light and comfortable. She has not noticed him, and he knows it is better this way. She stops suddenly at the photography studio on the side, and her fingers press almost reverently against the glass.

He doesn't need to walk over to know that she's looking at the framed Konoha mountainside in the window. Her shoulders sag, and he can feel the time knocking, waiting patiently to take her back.

(10:04:39:20:58)

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: I am an idiot and on tumblr I accidentally posted this one and the last installment together as a whole and I'm so _dumb._ bah. oh well. also, thank you for your kind words! as a matter of fact, I did find the courage to write. last night I finished an 8.5k oneshot, so that'll hopefully be posted soon!


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